


tiger, tiger

by saintdevour



Category: One Piece
Genre: Affection, Domesticity, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Timeskip, Translation Available, a lil bit of character & dynamics study but it's subtle, also titled: local bastard takes tiger metaphor and runs a marathon with it, but they're also... sort of already together, everyone knows they're together but them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 17:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintdevour/pseuds/saintdevour
Summary: What a terrible thing it is, this bad habit of his. Feeding wild things food and compassion.





	tiger, tiger

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic in years, so i hope people like it! i've been trying to get better at actually having completed works rather than agonizing over perfection. i started this fic to try and figure out how i'd like to write sanji & zoro's dynamic, but it turned into something else as i was writing it. 
> 
> proofread by me, so all mistakes are my own. enjoy, and leave a comment with your thoughts!
> 
> edit: beyond happy to say this fic is now [translated into chinese](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22160326) if anyone is interested!!

When they drop anchor, the island town is quiet in a peaceful way, and Sanji wastes no time in getting directions to the nearest marketplace. He gets his answers from the fishermen sitting on the docks, who look only mildly disgruntled at the interruption to their busy schedule of chewing toothpicks.

He finds it where they say it is, the buzz of activity giving away the hub even before he turns down the street. The walk remedies the stiffness in his muscles, and it feels good to stretch his legs without marines shooting at his feet.

 _It wouldn’t be so bad to waste a few days here,_ Sanji thinks, ducking under the bright draping roofs of the stalls to peruse some teardrop-shaped fruit. They smell enticingly sweet and the hawker says it makes a delicious dessert, so Sanji buys a whole crate’s worth. By the time the sun has dipped from its peak, he’s laden with more culinary curiosities than he is with supplies, balancing bags on boxes and crates.

He’s of half the mind to somehow rope Zoro into playing pack mule for him tomorrow, already deciding how to best bait the swordsman into agreeing when the ship comes into sight. But only Robin is there to greet him when he returns to the _Sunny_.

Zoro does not return in time for dinner, Sanji’s plotting, or even dessert.

The fruit easily splits in half under the pressure of Sanji’s palms. Pink segments crowd each other inside, and when Sanji nibbles on one, it's three times as sweet as it smells. He makes sorbet from it, thinking about the heavy humidity of this island and how tired someone can get after wandering around town the whole day.

The pink of the fruit stains Luffy’s tongue and Nami’s lips.

Sanji thinks it would be too sweet of a dessert for the swordsman anyways.

 

***    *    *    *    ***

 

It’s the third day of their stay when the town begins to murmur with a disturbance. The shift is subtle yet intrusive, a ripple in the calmness of the local normalcy.

“Two barrels of your stock,” Sanji says, and looks out of the corner of his eye at the way two wives chatter between themselves. Worry clouds their expressions, heads leaning close together in secrecy, and it's the same agitation that lines the shopkeep’s frown as he hands back the change.

“Hey,” the man says just before Sanji is about to turn away. “You’re not from around here, so you might not have heard yet. Stay outta the jungle. There’s a bad new beast in there.”

“Oh? What kind?” Sanji asks, because if it sounds good to eat, Luffy might have some fun catching tonight’s dinner for him. The shopkeep makes a disapproving sound at his apparent lack of fear, and Sanji has to remind himself he’s not a teenager anymore, so he should resist rolling his eyes.

“I’m not joking, kid. Been hearing nothin’ but trouble from that parts at night. Birds bein’ disturbed and causing a racket, trees fallin’ — someone says they found huge claw marks on trunks and in the ground. People’ve been sayin’—” The shopkeep looks grave when he pauses, voice dropping, and Sanji can’t help but lean in a little. “They’ve been sayin’ we got a demon tiger that’s made the jungle its hunting grounds.”

Sanji thumbs at his chin, thoughtful. The shopkeep leans back, satisfied with the feat of aweing his audience into silence.

“Ah,” Sanji says, tilting his head down and closing his eyes. Disappointment flits across his face, before consternation, then a dark look of annoyance. “Ahhh, shit.”

The shopkeep frowns. “Didn’t mean to upset you that much. You got business in the jungle?”

Sanji rubs between his eyes. “Well, I do now.” The shopkeep looks startled, giving him a skeptical once-over.

“Skinny boy like you a hunter?” he asks, and Sanji shoots him a look of reproach.

“Watch it, old-timer. I’ve caught giant lizards and grilled wolves before,” Sanji replies, remembering Little Garden and Jabra. The shopkeep barks a laugh, and belatedly Sanji realizes he sounds like Usopp boasting his tall tales.

Sanji huffs, and shakes his head. “I can handle your new jungle resident. He’s not going to pick a fight unless you pick one first.” Pointing at the barrels, Sanji jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll pay you extra if you can find someone to get these back to my ship at the port. It has a lion for a figurehead — can’t miss it.”

“You sound like you know this beast,” the shopkeep says, and Sanji sighs, sliding a couple of coins across the counter.

“Trust me, I wish I didn’t.”

 

***    *    *    *    ***

 

He hopes he’s wrong.

If he’s wrong, then dinner is going to be easy tonight, and jungle beast of the week is on the menu. Luffy would be thrilled.

But as soon as he sees the wicked grooves slashed into the loam and carved into a rock face, it’s a lost cause, and Sanji sighs. They really do look like claw marks of some ferocious monster, with the earth gouged out in three trenches like that.

Deciding this is a good enough spot as any, he sets down his pack, sits on a knotted root, and waits. It’s only the distant sound of rushing water and hidden birds to keep him company and just when boredom is about to eat him alive, what he’s waiting for comes thundering out of the bushes panting, wild-eyed, and _green_.

“Uh,” Zoro says intelligently, before discarding his momentary surprise and straightening. It’s an awful lot of composure for someone who’s lost and come full circle in his own tracks. “Took you long enough, shit cook.”

The first six words in three days, and it’s enough to send Sanji spluttering with rage. “Sorry? It took _me_ long enough?”

Zoro has the gall to reply, “Apology accepted,” and demon tiger just might be on tonight’s menu after all. “I was just heading back to the ship, but the town started moving.”

“You,” Sanji starts, taking a step towards the single most infuriating man he’s ever met and gesturing wildly. “Your hopelessness is legendary. Literally. You’re literally a fucking local legend now.”

“Hah?” Zoro’s eye narrows and Sanji almost rises to the challenge, foot tapping on the ground already, except—

“I don’t have time for this,” Sanji huffs, stomping over to Zoro and pushing his shoulder forwards. Or trying to, anyways — it’s like directing a brick wall. “Ship’s this way. You, front. March. If I’m late to cook dinner, you’re in for it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the swordsman replies with a bite, already veering off to the right. Sanji takes the opportunity to hook him by his haramaki and use it like a leash; Zoro makes a small _‘oof’_ sound before reeling back with the fabric’s elasticity.

“Hopeless. Goddamn _hopeless_ , you shitty swordsman,” Sanji mutters, and doesn’t let go until the _Sunny_ is in sight.

 

***    *    *    *    ***

 

They make it well before the time Sanji usually starts preparing dinner, but Zoro watches Sanji duck into the galley nonetheless.

By the time Sanji emerges, the swordsman is out under Nami’s mikan trees, on his back and snoring. The sun casts a dappled shadow over the tanned skin of Zoro’s chest, light filtering gold through the leaves.

It looks familiar— _right_ , even— though Sanji hadn’t realized the sun looked _wrong_ on Zoro in the jungle foliage when the man had first emerged. The shadows had striped strangely against his face, gold eyes striking a spark in the flint of half-darkness—

Sanji slams his shoe down right next to Zoro’s ear, startling the man awake. “Rise and shine, bastard,” he says, even as a furious jab is directed into his shin. It’s both the Baratie upbringing and a resistance to Zoro’s particular brand of violence that Sanji lowers the dish to the ground without a spill.

Folding his leg underneath him, he sits on the edge, with Zoro digging into his food with the vigor of a man who’s been lost in a jungle for three days foraging who-knows-what. Sanji frowns, and tugs at his hair.

With a mouth full of rice, Zoro says, “Relax.”

“I am relaxed,” Sanji snaps, releasing a handful of blond hair and going for his cigarettes. Zoro blessedly doesn’t comment at the urgent click of the lighter, or the exhale that sounds much too forceful. The silence makes him feel awfully transparent. “So?”

“So,” Zoro continues, like the non-sequitur makes sense. He supposes it does, between the two of them. “Chopper says this is leftovers from last night.” The cutlery clatters against the now-empty plate.

Sanji leans back on an arm. “Did he? That traitor,” he says quietly with no real venom. Zoro hums.

“You saved my share?” and Sanji closes his eyes, knows the game was up before it had begun.

“A task and a fucking half, with Luffy trying to take a bite out of my entire goddamn arm along with the plate. You’re welcome.”

Another hum, and Sanji opens his eyes to look over at Zoro.

“You still have leaves and shit in your hair,” Sanji says, hand raised but not touching yet, hovering there in wait of permission. He studies Zoro, fascinated, as the swordsman watches him with a sharp amber that cuts Sanji up into a thousand unsaid details, before his eyes close and Zoro leans ever so slightly into Sanji’s palm.

Slowly, Sanji combs his fingers through Zoro’s hair. There’s a deep hum that rumbles under the violent diagonal scar across the swordsman chest, and Sanji almost smiles.

They stay like that for awhile, Zoro’s posture going lazy before he gives up and situates his head on Sanji’s thigh. Any possibility of protesting has jumped ship with stones tied around its ankles — there’s not much room for false indignation with Sanji’s hand still carding through Zoro’s now-leafless hair, and the unprotected curve of Zoro’s throat that continue down to broad shoulders which rise and fall with slow breaths.

What a terrible thing it is, this bad habit of his. Feeding wild things food and compassion. The chefs at Baratie had laughed at him for being such a shrew to customers while sneaking scraps to hungry mice and tired seabirds.

He wonders what they would say about the beast he brought back from the jungle, now snoring softly in his lap.

(Maybe he’ll write home about it one day.)

 

***    *    *    *    ***

 

(“Did you know that tigers don’t purr?” Chopper asks, out of the blue. Sanji pauses in slicing up the last of the pink fruit.

“I didn’t.”

On the galley sofa, Chopper kicks his hooves idly and continues. “Well, when they’re content or happy, they squint or close their eyes.”

The little reindeer gives him a look, and Sanji thinks about counting Zoro’s eyelashes because of how close they were, feeling a quiet marvel at this small, almost thoughtless display of… what exactly?

“Giving up the sense of sight lowers defense, so they only do it when they feel perfectly comfortable and safe,” and Sanji thinks, _‘huh'._

“Huh,” he says out loud, because it makes the revelation real. Chopper nods.

After awhile, Sanji starts slicing the fruits again, and this time he allows himself to smile.)

 

***    *    *    *    ***

 

After spending years with the same people in the close confines of a ship, Sanji can tell who’s who by the sound of their footfalls.

Luffy has never walked calmly into the galley in his life, always bounding in at full speed while loudly demanding food; Chopper’s hooves always clack against the wooden boards; and Franky has a slight tinny resonance from the metal in his feet. He doesn’t need the subconscious habit of observation haki to tell if it’s Nami or Robin or Usopp or Brook. Even Jinbei, though it’s only been a short while since he’s joined the crew.

Sanji just knows.

Especially if you’re the green-headed idiot that tromps around in heavy boots, already grunting for alcohol before he’s a foot in the door. Anyone can expect to hear Zoro arriving from a mile away.

Which is why sometimes, Zoro manages to take Sanji by surprise, near-silent in bare feet and sleep-haze.

“What’s for breakfast?” and Sanji starts, alarm settling into exasperation as Zoro hooks his chin on the cook’s shoulder. One hand scratches at his own stomach, while the other leans against the kitchen counter, caging Sanji in.

“A hello would be nice,” Sanji says instead, and Zoro tilts his face slightly to blink at him.

“Hello,” Zoro complies, hair mussed and half-asleep enough to do almost anything he’s asked to. Sanji huffs a laugh, and turns back to his mixing bowl.

The wooden spoon clatters against its sides as he prepares the batter. “We’re having pancakes but you’re pretty early, and these won’t be for until later. Muffins are in the fridge if you want.”

Zoro hums but doesn’t move, and Sanji suspects he’s about to fall asleep again right there on his shoulder. “Hey, you,” Sanji chides, knocking his head against Zoro’s lightly.

“We said th’t already,” comes the reply and a half-hearted retaliation, though the attempted headbutt is more Zoro rubbing his cheek against Sanji’s stubble, and fuck— okay. Maybe that’s a little adorable.

Still, he’ll be caught dead or stupidly drunk before he admits anything like that about the swordsman, so Sanji instead says, “You’re more like a big narcoleptic cat than a tiger.”

“Where’s th’s coming from?” Zoro asks, and Sanji gives up the pancake batter for now since the other doesn’t seem to be letting go any time soon.

He turns and thinks before answering, “Chopper.”

Zoro, forced to relinquish his spot on Sanji’s shoulder, leans his forehead against Sanji’s instead. It should be gross, both because it’s disgustingly domestic and the fact the other hasn’t brushed his teeth yet, but Sanji is fighting the urge to melt into it. “What does that make you then?” Zoro asks.

“An idiot,” Sanji replies, and it makes Zoro’s eyes crease close as he laughs.

“Can’t argue with that,” he says, and Sanji pokes his exposed side, muttering, “Fucker.”

They’re silent for a moment, as Zoro takes his time shaking off his sleepiness and Sanji thinks about how to phrase what’s on his mind.

“I think yesterday, Chopper tried to tell me that we’re together,” Sanji says conversationally, looping the drawstring of Zoro’s sleep pants into a bow.

For a few seconds, Zoro is quiet. “Well, it’s Chopper, so he’s probably right,” he finally says, and it’s Sanji’s turn to blink.

“Okay.”

Zoro hums.

“Is that all?” Sanji asks, still trying to digest the surreality of being in a relationship without knowing he was in one.

“Well,” Zoro says, looking at Sanji with unmistakable fondness, and god, how could he ever have seen that and said it was without a name. “I want pancakes. And a kiss.”

Sanji fights down the urge to beam and puts on a mock-serious expression. “Tragic. I regret to inform you the chef can only do one request at a time.”

Zoro laughs again, and Sanji thinks he could get used to this.

He could get used to the way he can watch up close and unapologetic instead of from a distance; the way a hand comes up to cup his jaw, tilting it up in both eagerness and reverence.

The way Zoro is still smiling as he kisses him, and how Sanji can’t help but smile into it too.

**Author's Note:**

> chopper vc i diagnose you with hopelessly in love
> 
> my one piece sideblog is [@eastdemons](eastdemons.tumblr.com) on tumblr ♡ this fic has [a post](https://eastdemons.tumblr.com/post/184498461593/fic-tiger-tiger) if you want to support it there!


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